The Wishing Hour

by J. Adams

  “I came to warn you. There was someone at Cella's place asking questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “He asked if anyone had seen you, and if so, if you were alone.”

  “How did you know it was me he was asking about?”

  “No one, myself included, knows your name. He asked about 'the ancient one.' No one knew who he was talking about.”

  He looks at the boatman. “No one except you.” He steps closer, every nerve in his body coiled and ready, for he knows the creature he is facing. He senses the evil behind the facade. The red aura surrounding the Urchin shines like a beacon. To the human eye it just looks like a man. Many a human is in mortal danger when it is near because they have no clue of its true nature.

  “You should not have come.”

  “I needed to warn you.”

  “You think to warn me against yourself?”

  For a moment, there is silence. Then, as expected, the Urchin sheds the boatman's body like a snake shedding its skin and reveals its true self.

  “She must die,” it declares in its normal garbled voice.

  “The prophecy will be fulfilled,” he says, readying himself for the oncoming attack.

  The Urchin charges forward at lightning speed, but the protector's reflexes are even quicker. To the human eye his movements would be undetectable. In the blink of an eye he leaps into the air, landing softly behind the Urchin. The creature draws its steel blade, turns and swings. The protector meets the weapon with his own sword that he'd simply willed into his hand. The third arm of the Urchin appears holding a metal weapon consisting of a steel handle with a long chain attached to a metal round ball with spikes. The spikes secrete a fatal poison. Once a spike pierces the skin, the foe usually dies instantly.

  The protector knows this because he has encountered it before. As the Urchin swings, the weapon is instantly blocked by an impenetrable gold shield, willed into existence. He uses the same shield to deflect the poisonous venom the Urchin spews from its mouth, causing it to splash in the creature's eyes. It staggers back, momentarily blinded, giving him the diversion he'd needed.

  He produces a dagger coated in the venom of a sterengall fish and plunges it into the Urchin's heart. It falls to the ground and squirms against the cobbled walkway a moment before turning to ash and disintegrating.

  Heaving a deep sigh, he immediately does a complete scan of the island, feeling a profound sadness thinking about the loss of the boatman's life and grateful Lord Derth hasn't done nearly as much damage as he could. He could have murdered or enslaved many more humans during his existence. Instead, the dark lord's efforts have been concentrated on keeping the prophecy from coming to pass.

  He quickly covers every part of the island. He doesn't think there is another assassin because that is not the way Urchins work. Their leader is as arrogant as he is dangerous, assuming it will only take one Urchin to do the job. Still, he is unwilling to take any chances. Celine's life is too important to allow even the smallest risk.

  Six

  He hasn't come back yet and I am worried. No, I'm way past worried. I pace back and forth in the living room, occasionally peeking through the curtains for some sign of his return. My heart aches and I feel physical pain as my imagination runs wild, torturing my insides.

  I don't know what I'll do if anything has happened to him. He has only been in my life for a few days, but I feel as if I have always known him. I mean, sure I still don't know his name, but that does not matter. He came for me, to protect me and keep me safe. For the first time in my life, I feel that my life has importance. But it will mean nothing without him.

  I finally force myself to sit in the leather chair. I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to stop my hands from shaking and find some comfort. My eyes drift, again taking in my surroundings.

  There are various floral arrangements in tall painted vases around the room. A colorful throw is draped over the arm of the tan corded sofa. A large elegant area rug covers the middle of the tiled floor. Crystal gondola figurines in various sizes sit on the mantle above the fireplace, and a large gilt-framed mosaic painting hangs on each wall along with festively painted masks. Like the rest of the house, the room is beautiful.

  Until tonight, I have enjoyed the beauty of the house. I've enjoyed it because I have been sharing it with him. Without him it would not be the same.

  Please come back to me , I plead inward. You promised you would come back to me.

  I lean forward and close my eyes, pressing my face in my hands and praying he will return soon, unharmed. From the moment he walked out that door, I've felt more alone than I ever have before. And every moment he is gone, the pain and fear I feel increases.

  I am fine, caro.

  His voice suddenly flows into my mind, causing a slow warmth to pierce through my fear. I can feel him drawing near.

  The sound of the front door unlocking completely startles me. Then it opens and I hear his voice caressing my name. The next moment I am in his arms. I cling to him tightly, never wanting to let him go.

  “I was so worried,” I whisper against his chest.

  “I am unharmed,” he says softly, leaning down and pressing his face into my hair. “No matter what, I will always come back to you. And I will always keep you safe.”

  I heave a deep sigh and soak in his warmth, taking comfort in the strength of his muscular body.

  After another moment, he draws back. “We will need to move to another safe place.”

  “When?” I ask, disappointed. I have grown to love the island so.

  “Tomorrow evening. I prepared another place, just in case we needed it.”

  I heave another weary sigh and nod, accepting that he knows what is best. “I'll pack some things.” I force a slight smile. “I am definitely not going without taking at least half that wardrobe up there.”

  He smiles and presses a warm hand to my cheek. “I didn't think you would.”

  I close my eyes and lean into his touch. He wraps his other arm around me and holds me close, and I sigh and soak in his comfort. A tear trickles down my face. I am emotionally weary, but I am relieved he is unharmed, that he is here, holding me. I treasure the steady sound of his heart beating against my ear. He senses my unsteady emotions. I know he does.

  “Come, caro,” he says, leading me to the sofa. “You are tired and weary. Let me hold you a while.”

  I nod and sit down next to him. He covers me with the throw and wraps me in his arms. Rest. Just rest, I hear him whisper to my mind. As soon as his lips make contact with my brow, my eyes close and I drift off.

  * * *

  He mentally revives the dying flames in the fireplace, then closes his eyes and buries his face in her hair. He hadn't expected the Urchin to find them so fast. There can only be one explanation. Evidently someone in his network has turned and is working for the enemy. He can no longer trust anyone, except his blade brother in the states and a priest in Venice who had once lived among their people and had taken a sacred vow to never reveal the presence of their kind. He must contact the two men immediately and inform them that there is a dissenter in the ranks.

  Until they can discover who that dissenter is, he can trust no one with the knowledge of their whereabouts. He is completely on his own.

  He continues to hold her in silence and lets his mind drift back to the year 1310. He had turned twenty and was beginning his training to be the guardian of the Woman of Prophecy. From birth he was taught of the prophecy and the marvelous changes that would take place as the result of its fulfillment.

  He had been deeply honored to be chosen for such a vital and coveted calling. It would be dangerous and he may even lose his life, but dying in defense of the Woman of Prophecy was a risk and an honor many warriors longed to take upon themselves. And he had been chosen to be her protector.

  He had known there was a great possibility that his Ki Talimai would emerge, as would the mark of his bond mate, and he would not be there
to accept the bond. This would be painful, but it would be necessary, and a sacrifice he'd been willing to make. For he knew to selfishly reject this calling would not only bring the label of coward upon him, causing him to feel shame among the men of his kind, but if the Ki Talimai of his mate called to him and he abandoned his calling to go to her, he and the woman would never be happy, and the bond would weaken and fall apart, destroying them both.

  No, he had accepted the honor with humility and gladness.

  He'd trained twelve hours a day, honing not only his fighting skills, but learning to use and control his growing powers and abilities. Centuries of physical conditioning, in both training and battle, have prepared him for the enemy he now faces.

  He smiles as he remembers the day of Celine's birth. Unseen, he had been there, watching over her, ready to protect her from the enemy. Through the years he remained close, watching her grow, witnessing her joys, her sorrows, her triumphs and trials. He'd found himself feeling proud of her for the person she was and the great woman she was becoming.

  Then, two years ago something happened. The mark of the soul's bond burned into his palm like wax melting against a flame. He had wondered how it could be, then soon discovered that the closer he was to Celine, the more the mark burned. The burning was not painful, but rather comforting, for his mind had gained absolute clarity, and her thoughts instantly lay open to him. The pull of his soul to hers was immediate, as was her owning of his heart. There had been a few cases in the past in which one of his kind was bound to a regular human. When the blood of the two merged during the final binding ceremony through the ceremonial cut on the wrist, the blood of the human changed and the person became immortal like his kind. When that happened, the two souls permanently merged and became one, and because of this, neither mate could survive without the other.

  The moment Celine's soul called to his, the knowledge of his true part in the prophecy flowed into his being, ingraining him with priceless truth and wisdom, giving him answers to internal questions that had burned in his heart for centuries. These realizations had filled him with tearful humility and absolute unmeasurable joy. To discover that the Woman of Prophecy and his bond mate were one and the same was more than he could have ever hoped for.

  All that he is belongs to her. Always has, and always will.

  The fates have been kind.

  Seven

  I scan the room once more and decide I have everything I need. I am zipping up the last of the three large suitcases when he enters the bedroom that had briefly belonged to me. The thought of abandoning it renews the sadness I feel inside. I wonder how I can feel so attached to this place when my life had been threatened here. Then I remind myself that this is not a vacation, that I'm literally running for my life and his job is to protect me. Being with him had allowed me to briefly forget that at times.

  “I have what I need,” I tell him. I can tell by his expression he is just as sad as I am about having to leave the beautiful island. In the brief time we've been here, we have created some wonderful memories, but I will take them with me, and I am sure he will as well. He presses a gentle hand to my cheek.

  “We will begin again and make new memories.” I nod and smile. “I know.”

  Somehow he grabs all three suitcases and I follow him

  out, pausing to take everything in one last time. He locks up the house and we begin our walk down the cobbled path through the trees. When we reach the dock, he helps me into the boat, then puts my luggage in, placing it with a couple of boxes he'd loaded earlier. He starts the engine and steers away from the island.

  I marvel at the beauty of Venice at night. The city is alive with festive lighting and the elegant old buildings stand out even more. The city lights shine on the water, reflecting off the ripples like precious gems. The smell of sulfur is strong, but my nose is growing used to it.

  It isn't long before we enter a darkened area of the waterfront. We pull up next to a dock behind a palace of apartments.

  “This is it,” he says and I can feel his eyes on me as I silently take everything in.

  I look up at the massive set of double wooden doors. Above them are windows lined with terraces. I am anticipating seeing the inside of our new residence. It is hard not knowing for sure how long we will be here, so I tell myself not to get too attached.

  But once we enter the grand marble-pillared foyer, I immediately fall in love with the place. The apartment has four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two salons, an elegant dining room, a modern kitchen, and a laundry room. It is richly decorated and most of the furniture looks antique. Though I will still miss the seclusion of the island, I know I will be comfortable here.

  After bringing everything in, he leaves me to unpack while he scans the area surrounding the building. The room I choose has a balcony overlooking a private courtyard in the back. The room next to mine is identical and I am certain he will choose to sleep there in order to remain close to me. I put my clothes, cosmetics, and toiletries away. Having finished, I walk over to the balcony doors and stare out into the night. The stars are veiled and the sky is thickly overcast. It looks like we are due for more rain sometime soon.

  I heave a tired sigh and ponder the danger still looming before me. Something is after me and I still don't really know why. He tells me I'm important in some way and there is something I am supposed to accomplish, and whatever is after me wants me dead, to prevent me from doing whatever it is I'm meant to do. In some ways I prefer the boring mundane days I had before.

  But I would never trade being with him. Even if I could go back to my life before, I wouldn't. Not if it meant I would be separated from him. However, I am tired of running and I hope we can stay put for a while. Maybe I should ask him to teach me to fight so I can at least try to protect myself if the enemy should happen to find me when he is not here. Of course, I have no clue of what to even expect. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be a little prepared.

  I sit on the bed and pull my wallet from my purse. I open it and stare at a photo of my parents. It had been taken a few months before my mother died. She'd lost all her hair from the chemotherapy treatments and was wearing a wig styled in a chic bob cut. She had also lost a great deal of weight and was too thin, but she was still beautiful. Her light brown complexion was flawless and her features were perfect. She had a smile that literally lit up the world and was completely contagious. My father was also thin from weight loss due to his health. He was tall and handsome, his skin tone matching my mother's. They had always been considered a very attractive couple by friends and acquaintances.

  I lightly run my finger across the photo. Sadly this is the only picture I brought of them and I cherish it greatly. I can't help wondering what my parents would think of my life at this moment. My mother told me frequently throughout my life that I was special and destined to do great things in the world. Thinking on this, part of me wonders if she knew about this somehow. Or was it just a mother's wishful thinking? Unless she could see into the future, it was most likely the latter.

  I find that I really miss my mother at the moment. I wish she were here to talk me through all of this somehow. Knowing her, she would demand that my protector tell me everything immediately. The thought makes me smile. As loving and giving as she was, patience was never her strong suit.

  Looking at the photo once more, I close my wallet and put it back in my purse. My mother may not be here, but I can handle this. I will make it through whatever comes. I have no choice. Hearing the apartment door opening, I rise and go to him.

  He smiles, but I can feel his deep concern for my safety. I can feel the subtle anguish he harbors at the thought of me being harmed and his feelings affect me deeply. Sudden tears spring to my eyes. I blink them back furiously. Saying nothing, he simply opens his arms and I enter them and soak in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

  * * *

  She is hurting. He can feel it and it tears at his heart. He wishes he could offer her more comfort. He longs to assur
e her that there will be no more running, that things will be different. How he wishes he hadn't had to uproot her from her life in the states. He aches to give her the security of a home of her own. He hopes he will be able to sometime in the future. She deserves all the happiness this world has to offer, and he will move heaven and earth to give her that happiness. Anything he can do for her, he will do.

  It has always been this way, even when she was young. When she was sick, he would quietly sit by her bed at night and watch over her. Before she awakened, he would slip away, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and a doll or stuffed animal. If she fell and hurt herself, he would breeze by undetected, and take the pain away with a light touch. When someone hurt her feelings and made her sad, he would softly whisper to her of her worth and how much she is loved. When she lost her parents and began to experience times of loneliness, he was near, aching for her, wishing he could hold her. And when his Ki Talimai appeared, the ache he felt for her changed from one of comfort to one of need. A need burning inside him that only the emotional connection of his true mate would assuage.

  Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he feels her trembling and tightens his embrace, wishing he could pull her into himself and shelter her forever. He draws back a little and takes in her beautiful, fatigued features.

  “You are tired,” he says, touching her face. When she nods he scoops her up in his arms and carries her to her room, placing her on the bed.

  “Thank you,” she says, giving him a sleepy smile.

  “You're welcome.” He squeezes her hand, hating to be away from her even for a moment. “Sleep well.”

  “You, too,” she says softly.

  He reluctantly leaves her and moves through the apartment, turning off all the lights. Walking into the salon, he moves a chair in front of the terrace window and stares out into the night, searching for danger or strange movement of any kind. He reaches out with his senses, scanning for anything that could do Celine harm. Sensing nothing, he sits back in the chair and settles himself for the night, keeping a vigilant watch. He can sense Celine sleeping peacefully now. He will let nothing disturb her rest.